slowly.

You asked me about the cold, and I told you the following in long sentences: Sometimes, I like it's ability to jar me into focus. It is so very tangible like the heat can be, but it can knock the air out of you, and infiltrate your lungs in a way that the heat never can.

Pictures of you as a little guy made me smile.

I can feel the uncertainty tug at me, and I'm trying to ignore the time that has passed since we left. Longer than I've known some of the people I'm closest to, and it's almost as if no word exists to describe the feeling in that realization.

Listing out the people I might have slept with. Under different circumstances, obviously. But, attraction at points is undeniable. Catching eyes that hold on. Or mouthing hidden words with exasperation. The sudden reveal shocking somehow still.

Beer warming slowly in a pint glass on the wooden table of a booth in a low-lit bar, the dregs in bottles abandoned, doubles sipped down.

And we just let it be.

I want to sing outloud to all the harmonies.

Wishing for us in the backseat of the car on the side of the road.